by Amy Daws
She shoots up out of bed, her teal silk eye mask still fully in place as she flings her hands out wide. “I only consented to choking that one time!”
I blink at that odd response but figure we can unpack that conversation at another time. We have bigger fish to fry this morning. “Well, prepare for my wrath regardless because I am coming in piping hot,” I growl and drop my key for her flat back in my purse.
Phoebe pushes her mask up into her hair, revealing green eyes that are still just as vibrant in the morning as they were last night. How does she wake up like that?
“What did I do?” she asks, shoving her stray black strands of hair out of her eyes.
“Oh, where do I begin?” I start pacing the floor of her very girlie bedroom. It’s decorated in all white and pale pinks, just like it was when we were children. It’s like an adult baby room. Flowery, fluffy, girlie, the very opposite of the rage boiling inside me right now. “First, you made me do all those stupid games with Zander at the pub last night.”
“Which clearly worked because you slagged off without me last night.” Phoebe waggles her eyebrows.
“I bailed on your plan and told him I wanted to sleep with him,” I state, propping my hands on my hips.
Phoebe shrugs. “So, you were inspired to go rogue. What’s wrong with that? Did you guys not have sex?”
“Oh, we had sex.” I laugh, and my cheeks flame at the flash of memory that assaults me.
“Good!” Phoebe nods excitedly.
“Not good!”
Phoebe’s face falls as she grabs a pink pillow and clutches it to her chest like a coat of armor. “Was it that bad? Soccer Boy has tons of big dick energy. I thought for sure he’d come packing.”
“Oh, he has a big dick. A very nice dick. In fact, probably the nicest I’ve ever had.” The image of him rolling that condom on with deft ease is burned into my brain for all of space and time.
“That’s brilliant. A good cock is half the battle,” Phoebe offers.
“But you never told me.” I run my hands through my tangled hair that I didn’t even brush before rushing over this morning. I tossed and turned all night so I’m sure I look a fright.
“Never told you what?”
“What it actually feels like!” I exclaim back at her, my entire body heating at the memory. “You and I have talked about sex ad nauseam. And I’ve described my past experiences to you in intricate detail. And you never ever told me.”
“Told you what? I am so confused.” She tosses her pillow at me. “You’re not some closet virgin, are you?”
I catch it and bite my lip. “I might as well be.”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about, Daph?”
I inhale a cleansing breath and hit Phoebe with the harsh reality I only learned mere hours ago. “Until last night, I had no idea that I’d never had a proper orgasm before.” I gesture toward my vagina like it’s going to nod its solemn approval with me.
Phoebe rises to her knees to grab my wrist and yank me down onto her bed. She touches her temples. “Wait, clarify for me because I have a crippling hangover, and I’m not sure I’m following. Did you have an orgasm with Zander Williams last night?”
“Yes.” I drop my chin and eye her sternly.
“Then what is the problem?”
“My problem is, I thought I’ve been having orgasms my whole life. I’ve had five semi-serious boyfriends and had multiple sexual relations with all those blokes. I thought I’d been climaxing every time we shagged! However, I did always think it strange that I never moaned and groaned like people on the telly did. Nevertheless, I thought I was coming right along with my partners! I had no idea until last night that I never moaned before because I wasn’t even orgasming!”
Phoebe’s eyes turn to saucers. “Daphney Clarke, are you telling me that Zander Williams is the first bloke you’ve ever reached climax with?”
“Yes!”
“Oh, my God!”
“I know! That’s why I want to strangle you!”
“What did I do? I wasn’t even there!”
“You just…you never described it to me. You described everything else! I think I know every freckle on your nipple after last year.”
“Well, I thought I felt a lump. I needed a mate to have a proper look.” She crosses her arms over her chest protectively.
I sigh and rub her shoulder affectionately. “I understand, but Phoebe, somehow, in all the years of our friendship, you and I never descriptively discussed what an orgasm felt like. Which means I’ve spent the majority of my adult life thinking I knew…but after what happened to me last night, I now realize that everything in my past sexual experiences was a complete and utter lie. I mean…did I even have sex? Is it sex if you don’t climax?”
“Of course it’s sex. Don’t be daft.”
I exhale heavily. “I know, but Phoebe, what happened to my body last night was…mind-altering.”
Phoebe’s eyes alight with interest. “What did he do?”
I bite my lip and shake my head from side to side, still feeling stupefied by the whole ordeal. “I don’t think he did anything all that special. It just bloody worked. I felt like I’d been electrified. It was like this powerful current swept through me, and it was such a huge gush of release that I thought I wee’d.”
“Fucking brilliant.”
“I know!” I huff out an awkward laugh. “I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about how brilliant it was. And you’re a twat because we’re framily, and you should have set me straight years ago. What have I been missing all my life?”
“Well, you’re only twenty-six, so it’s safe to say you’re being a tad dramatic.”
I frown at her. “I feel like a new woman.”
“This conversation needs champagne.” Phoebe rises from her bed and walks out of the bedroom, her long satin nightie flowing dramatically behind her. I follow her into her whitewashed kitchen, where she grabs a bottle of champagne from her wine chiller and two flutes from her cupboard. She tops the bubbles off with a dash of cranberry juice and hands me one. “To your first sexual climax.”
Our glasses clink, and we both take a longer than appropriate drink for eight in the morning. Phoebe lowers her glass and hits me with a severe look. “Have you never masturbated before?”
“No,” I reply and take another swig. “I tried when I was younger, but it felt weird.”
“What did you try with?”
I wiggle my fingers at her.
“That’s your first mistake,” she scoffs and takes another sip. “You need a toy. It’s much less cardio. I’ll send you a link for a good vibrator. I have a voucher code for one and everything because I’m one of their influencers.”
“I don’t need a vibrator, Phoebe,” I snap, feeling frustrated at how I feel like a virgin all over again. “I don’t know what I need.”
“Well, you obviously need to thank me for encouraging you to have casual sex with the slutty footballer.” She crosses her arms as she holds her glass in front of her. “I mean, if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be having snoregasms.”
“God, you’re right.” I slump down onto one of her plush white barstools. “It’s just so weird because I thought all this time I was climaxing. I guess it just…felt good? And the fact that my first orgasm was with someone who pretty much drives me mental every day is messing with my mind. Do you think that makes me crazy? Like is this some weird kink I have?”
Phoebe props her chin in her hand. “No, I think it means you’re letting loose and having a bit of fun for once, Daph. I’ve been having fun for years, and my skin has never looked better.”
She gestures to her beautiful, flawless skin, and my brows lift.
“So how many times did you do it?” She waggles her brows.
I pull my lips into my mouth and wince. “Just once. And then I sort of flipped out and told him to go home. I can’t imagine experiencing that sensation multiple times! I’d explode into a million pieces.”
/> “That’s kind of the idea! You climax so many times that your body turns into jelly, and you can’t move a muscle for hours. It’s fantastic.” Phoebe shivers as an apparent memory assaults her. “Did he want to go again, you think?”
“Maybe? I’m not sure. He looked kind of sad when he left. I feel bad if he was expecting a round two. I just sort of shagged and bagged, I guess.”
A shocked look casts over Phoebe’s face. “My God, I couldn’t be prouder right now than if you offered to carry our future sperm donor children.”
Zander
“I think I might be bad at sex,” I state over breakfast the next day at The Full Monty with Knight and Link.
Link leans in, his eyes rapt with interest as he replies, “Gonna need a bit more context again, my dude.”
I swallow the knot in my throat and wonder when the fuck I became such a sharer. I’m an only child. I don’t need someone to help me make life decisions. But ever since my dad died, I can’t seem to figure anything out on my own…so here I sit, having breakfast with Knight and Link and sharing my innermost thoughts with them before we head over to Tower Park to watch game footage of last night’s match with the team. I’m such a weakling.
I level them both with a serious glower that says I’m being dead serious. “Last night, I hooked up with Daphney, and after we finished, she sort of…kicked me out.”
Link’s head snaps back. “Did you want to stick around and spoon or something?”
“Fuck no,” I bark. “But I probably could have gone for a round two. I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve been laid, so I was up for it. In fact, I don’t think I put my best foot forward because I was too busy trying to distract myself from what we were doing so I wouldn’t…”
“Be done in sixty seconds?” Link finishes with a laugh, holding his coffee mug out to me. “Been there.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t totally focused on her while we were doing it because I was trying to make it last, but I know she fucking came. What more did she want?”
Knight props his elbows on the table. “Maybe she faked it.”
“She didn’t fake it,” I nearly growl.
Knight shrugs. “Maybe she thought fucking a pro athlete would be more exciting?”
The response feels like a sharp knife in the gut. “I’m exciting.”
“Are you?” Knight volleys back.
My brows furrow. “I’m Zander fucking Williams. I’m as exciting as it gets.”
Link huffs out a laugh. “You’re trying to convince the wrong people, dude.”
Knight nods in agreement, and my body recoils at the idea that it just wasn’t good enough for her to want me to stick around. Jesus Christ, this is humiliating. How am I going to show my face in front of her again?
Link snaps his finger at me. “My sister reads a lot of romance novels, and she’s always saying what’s sexy about them is when the hero goes all alpha and just takes the woman without asking.”
“That’s called rape,” Knight deadpans over his mug of coffee.
“Not if it’s with a consenting party,” Link insists.
Knight shakes his head, clearly not convinced.
“They just like you to be a man,” Link explains. “With their permission obviously.”
“Did your sister tell you all this?” I ask, my head tilted curiously at my brother from another mother. “’Cause that’s a really weird convo to have with a sister.”
Link smiles smugly. “I eavesdropped on her book club one time. You can learn a lot of shit about what a woman likes at a romance book club.”
Knight takes a sip of his coffee. “That’s really weird, man.” The two of them begin arguing about romance novels causing unrealistic expectations on men while I brood over my coffee.
I mean, Link’s not wrong. I do need to show Daphney that I’m a lot more than what we did last night, which I didn’t think was bad. It felt wicked good actually. But maybe my head not being fully focused on her was too obvious. I can’t remember the last time I went a year without sex. I’m sure I was just a little rusty. Now that I’ve jumped back on the saddle, I’ll be much better the next time.
However, I’m not even sure Daphney wants a next time. We didn’t exactly discuss our situation. Was it a one-time thing? Or could we be regular starters in each other’s lives?
Either way, I need a redo. I can’t face her in the hallway every day and have her thinking I’m bad at sex. No goddamn way. I have a reputation to uphold. Maybe Link’s idea of taking her isn’t as crazy as it sounds. I just need one chance to show her that I can jerk one out of the park and have her begging for more.
Daphney
My fingers freeze on my keyboard when I hear a knock on my door. It’s two o’clock on Friday, and I’ve been hiding out in my flat for the past two days, trying my best not to run into Zander. After how mental I behaved a couple of nights ago, I’m sure the last thing he wants to do is see his one-night stand again.
Of course it’s just my luck that Bethnal Green has no matches this weekend, so the odds of avoiding him are not in my favor. I’d go back home for the weekend if I didn’t have a shift at Old George tonight and tomorrow night.
I begrudgingly rise from my piano bench and make my way over to the door, hoping it’s just my brother or Phoebe stopping by. When I peer through the peephole and spot Zander on the other side, my heart leaps into my throat.
“I heard you playing your piano, Ducky. Just open up and stop avoiding me.” His voice is gruff and sexy, causing my vagina to dance again. Damn him.
I exhale heavily and open my door to see Zander standing there in workout gear consisting of Adidas training trousers and a zip-up hoodie. His hat is facing forward, and the moody look in his eyes has my body clenching with desire.
“Hiya.” I cringe at the weird tone in my voice. This moment right here is why casual sex is an awful idea. It’s never awkward to see your boyfriend after shagging him. But a one-night stand? Awkward city!
Zander steps toward me, a glacial look in his eye as he says flatly, “I’m going to kiss you, okay?”
“Sorry?” I croak, and the next thing I know, his lips press on mine as he holds my face in his large, calloused hands and thrusts his tongue greedily into my mouth.
In most circumstances and with any other man, I would be offended. I’d shove him away and tell him that he has no right to just kiss me like that. But this isn’t most circumstances, and Zander isn’t just any other man. He’s…Soccer Boy. And the trembling of my limbs right now is a clear indication that he can do pretty much whatever he wants with me.
My puckered lips whoosh forward when Zander yanks back, his eyes frantic with worry. “Shit, you didn’t say yes.”
“What?” I rasp, my mouth feeling like it’s been teased in the cruelest way possible.
“I-I just thought you’d say yes,” he stammers, his words ragged as he stares hungrily at my lips. “Is this consent?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” I grip the sides of his jacket and feel annoyed that we’re not still kissing.
He releases my face and steps back, and my body nearly falls forward at the loss of him. His chest rises and falls with rapid breaths. “I want to take you.”
“Take me where?” I ask, staring up at him like he’s a bloody alien speaking another language.
“Here…sexually,” he barks, his voice laced with frustration.
My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Zander, I can barely understand you. What is going on?”
“Yes or no, Ducky?” He pulls his hat off his head to run an agitated hand through his hair.
“Yes,” I croak because my body has been practically screaming to be touched ever since I experienced my first orgasm less than forty-eight hours ago.
In a breath, Zander rushes me, grabbing my bottom and hoisting me up so I have to wrap my legs around him. He kisses me wildly, banging me into the door as he closes it behind us. His tongue
moves down my neck as he nips at my skin. The sensation causes every muscle in my body to tense, and I feel my hips rolling into his.
He pushes us off the wall and stomps over to my bed. “Take your clothes off,” he growls as he drops me on the mattress like a sack of potatoes.
Confused but also insanely aroused, I do as he says and watch him as he also ditches his own clothing. My eyes are saucers when I see he’s rock hard already. His bare cock is pointing right at me, and in the broad daylight, I dare say it’s the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.
I perch on the edge of my bed, naked and slightly confused as he rolls on a condom. My body shivers as his hands grip my ankles to yank me to the edge of the bed. I let out a little yip that sounded embarrassingly like a frightened Yorkie, but Zander doesn’t notice as he places my legs on top of his shoulders and centers himself at my entrance.
“Fucking wet again,” he groans as he pushes his long finger deep inside me. He bites his lip as he pumps slowly and steadily into my channel. He looks like he’s in pain, and it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Without warning, he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his cock. The abrupt invasion has my entire body tensing. “Oh, my God,” I cry out because the pressure is overwhelming.
Zander jostles me as he throws one of my legs over his head and pivots me onto my side. He’s now gripping both my calves on his left shoulder as he hunches down and pulls out before driving back inside me. The new angle pushes him even deeper, and with my legs closed, I can feel every ridge of him as he hits a new spot that’s never been stroked before.
“Holy shit,” I bark out unattractively as I grip the footboard for support. Zander is moving so fast, so recklessly, and without abandon, it’s sending my body into overdrive. The pressure building in my core is so intense, my legs tremble uncontrollably as my senses take over.
Without warning, I start to spasm under his firm grip, and the concentrated look in his eyes as he watches himself pound into me is so erotic, I begin to lose myself.